


the day I found regret

by hakyeonni



Category: VIXX
Genre: Affairs, Angst, Cheating, Dysfunctional Relationships, Established Relationship, First Time, M/M, no abuse tho just... ppl who dont work together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 13:44:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14955773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hakyeonni/pseuds/hakyeonni
Summary: their story begins and ends with a handshake and cheap vodka, and that, perhaps, is the saddest part of it all: that hakyeon will have nothing to remember them by.





	the day I found regret

**Author's Note:**

> pls read the tags but yes there's cheating/adultery in this so don't read if you hate that kinda thing

_love is a light_  
_that makes your face shine bright_  
_out your pores it doth unwind_  
_so over time I’m slowly blind_  
_and it comes as a surprise_  
_when you I no more recognise  
_  
Till Lindemann, _Love makes blind_

   


Their relationship is as cliche as they come, but their first meeting—well, that’s the biggest cliche of them all.

Hakyeon’s drowning his sorrows in cheap vodka at the local bar, avoiding the bartender’s eyes and instead staring at the wall, refusing to let his feelings bleed through onto his face. This place is close enough to their apartment that he could be found, if Sanghyuk wanted to find him.

He doesn’t. He never does.

Someone slides into the stool next to him, but he doesn’t look up; it’s peak hour and the bar is crowded, which is probably why the stranger seems a little close. But then there’s an elbow gently jostling his, and he looks up into the pretty angled face of a man he doesn’t recognise. The man’s smiling—smiling at _him?_ —and Hakyeon’s too taken aback to return the gesture. After all, he’s just come from the office. His suit is a bit rumpled and he’s sure his hair is dishevelled, and yet the man’s still smiling.

“Can I help you?” he asks, once he’s remembered how his tongue works. Hm. Maybe he’s drunker than he thought; this stranger’s eyes are sparkling in a way Hakyeon’s never seen before.

The stranger smiles even wider. “I hope so. Let me buy you a drink.”

It takes a few seconds for Hakyeon’s tipsy brain to catch up, but once it does his eyes widen and he puts his glass down on the bar a little shakily. “Are you really trying to hit on me?”

“Of course.” The stranger holds out his hand and, once Hakyeon takes it to shake, winks. “I’m Jaehwan, and you’re the prettiest thing in this bar.”

Hakyeon can’t help it. He laughs, even though it’s a cheesy line and one entirely unsuited to the rather dingy hole-in-the-wall location they’re in, surrounded by businessmen. It’s even less suited to him looking the way he is, but—oh, but he is fickle, and it’s been such a long time since he’s been complimented like that.

He swears he feels a butterfly in his stomach.

*******

Over the course of the evening Hakyeon has learnt that Jaehwan works in a bank, is twenty-six years old—a whole two years younger than Hakyeon, and a whole three years older than Sanghyuk, not that it matters—and is heartbreakingly, achingly funny. Half the time Hakyeon barely remembers why he’s laughing, only that they’re both bent over the bar, slapping the wood and laughing so hard their shoulders shake. Throughout it all Jaehwan keeps touching him, gentle touches that are obvious questions, and after a moment of brief hesitation Hakyeon always touches him back. It’s subtle; just a hand left on a shoulder a fraction too long to be friendly, or a brushing of fingers as they clink their glasses together, but it’s there and it makes Hakyeon’s race with the thrill of it all even though he knows it shouldn’t.

“I’ll be right back,” he says, and, feeling bold, puts his hand on top of Jaehwan’s where it rests on the bar and gives it a gentle squeeze.

Instantly, Jaehwan’s face lights up and he squeezes Hakyeon’s hand back. He looks how Hakyeon feels, excitement and nervousness all in one. “Okay,” he replies, and flashes a grin at Hakyeon. “Don’t take too long.”

Hakyeon has never felt quite like this before as he makes his way outside, shivering when the cool air hits him; it’s almost like he’s flying, buoyant and giddy. There’s no one he’s met that can make him feel like fire just from touching him like Jaehwan does. It’s addicting and a complete rush.

He sobers when he looks at his phone and sees that he has five missed calls from Sanghyuk, his heart nearly breaking evenly in two. Well. Maybe there’s one person who can make him feel like that. _Could_.

“Hey, I’m gonna be home late,” he says once the answering machine picks up. Sanghyuk’s turned his phone off. He’s not exactly surprised. “Sorry. Being kept back at the office. You know how it is.”

Exhaling in one smooth, long breath, he slides his phone back in his pocket and turns to head inside, back towards the inevitability that awaits him.

*******

Jaehwan’s mouth is hot and Hakyeon melts.

They’re messy, mainly because Jaehwan’s apartment is messy (“I haven’t unpacked,” he gasps as Hakyeon trails kisses up his neck, “so don’t expect much—”), and Hakyeon has lost all ability to care. They throw each other up against walls, pop buttons in their eagerness to get clothes off, and when they’re both finally naked all Hakyeon can do is lose himself in the noises that Jaehwan makes, the way his lips look, the way how this is the first time in years he’s felt like this. He’s burning, they’re both burning, and the best part of it all is that Jaehwan feels the same. It’s written on his tongue, imprinted on his touches on Hakyeon’s skin, too-much and not-enough all at once, burning, burning, burning.

Hakyeon wakes in the night with Jaehwan curled around him, affectionate even in sleep, and brushes a feathery-light kiss to his forehead. Jaehwan responds by tightening his arms, and it should feel constricting, but it doesn’t. Hakyeon feels free.

*******

It’s nearly dawn by the time he gets home, Jaehwan’s number safely stashed in his phone under a female coworker’s name, and instead of heading straight to bed he instead heads for the shower. It pains him to wash Jaehwan’s scent off his skin—he wants to bury himself in it, roll around in it, be covered completely—but, well, there’s the elephant in the room that he’s trying not to think about. If he doesn’t think it, he won’t regret, and he does not want the image of Jaehwan in his head to be tainted by regret.

“Hyung?” Sanghyuk slurs as Hakyeon tiptoes to bed. “Is that you?”

_Who else would it be?_ Hakyeon thinks, but bites back the cruel quip and instead slides in between the sheets. He moves to pull Sanghyuk close, but the moment he lays a hand on the younger man he rolls away, the gesture obvious.

This time Hakyeon wakes in the morning to a cold bed, devoid of any affection at all, and he throws an arm over his head and allows the all-too-familiar despair to settle in his heart once again.

*******

“Morning,” he says cheerily, sliding onto the lounge next to Sanghyuk and pulling him in for a hug. “How was your night?”

Sanghyuk returns the hug half-heartedly, not taking his eyes from the television. “Alright. How was yours?”

A flash—Jaehwan, burning, heat and passion and desire and _want_. Hakyeon's tongue is suddenly heavy as the guilt hits him at last, acrid and metallic, not unlike the taste of blood in his mouth, actually. “Fine,” he says, sure the blood is dripping off his tongue, that Sanghyuk will turn his head and know. “Just work stuff. You know how it is.”

“Yeah.”

But Sanghyuk does not turn his head.

*******

A rare day. Hakyeon wakes to go to work and Sanghyuk’s already up, standing in the kitchen blearily clutching a mug of coffee. There’s another one sitting on the kitchen counter next to him, and Hakyeon takes it gratefully, nearly scalding his mouth in his hurry to swallow it all. He turns to go but Sanghyuk drags him back by the tie, pulls him into a kiss, pushing his hands into Hakyeon’s hair.

If Jaehwan was new, this is the familiar, and there’s comfort in the familiar. It’s comfort that Hakyeon knows, and his heart swells to bursting as he rests his hands on Sanghyuk’s waist. Just making out for the sake of making out, for no reason other than they can and that they’re in love, and he’s _missed_ this, god. He’s missed the shape of Sanghyuk’s mouth, the way he tastes, the way he moans just when Hakyeon runs his hands up his thighs. The word _decadent_ springs to mind as he stands there in the kitchen, sunlight pouring over them both, the taste of coffee hot on their tongues. It’s decadent.

“Sanghyuk—” he manages to get out as Sanghyuk cups a hand over his half-hard cock, rubbing it slowly. “Sanghyuk, I can’t.”

It’s as if he’s fired a gun in the room. Sanghyuk jerks away, the betrayal so evident on his face that for a moment Hakyeon wants to take his words back. But it’s too late, the damage is done, and yet another crack appears between them.

“Go,” he says, and his jaw is tight as he turns his head, picking up his coffee mug like armour. “Just go.”

“You know I can’t be late to work again.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry—”

“Just go,” Sanghyuk barks, and pushes his way past Hakyeon and down the hall, leaving him standing there, empty and bereft.

*******

That night, he texts Jaehwan.

He’s once more pushing the guilt away, compartmentalising it into a neat box in his mind labelled ‘deal with later’, and is instead letting the anticipation of seeing Jaehwan again run through him. He’d agreed to meet at the bar once more, and so Hakyeon heads there straight after work, a smile forming on his face the moment he sees Jaehwan sitting at the bar.

It’s a smile that’s mirrored on Jaehwan’s own face, and the way he touches Hakyeon’s elbow when he sits down says more than words ever could. “Hey,” he chirrups, and leans forward to press the briefest of kisses to Hakyeon’s cheek. “How was work?”

It’s an oddly domestic conversation for only their second meeting, but Hakyeon doesn’t mind. There’s just something about Jaehwan that draws him in; it’s almost like he’s too good to be true, a thought that Hakyeon blacklists from his mind the moment it rears its head. If he thinks like that—if he’s fatalistic—maybe it will end. For once in his life he just wants to live in the moment and appreciate every moment as it comes, and so he listens to every story Jaehwan has to tell, laughs with him, drinks with him, and then kisses him fiercely in the lift up to Jaehwan’s apartment.

“You,” Jaehwan says, and then seemingly cannot find any more words. “You.”

His hand is on Hakyeon’s cheek, setting him aflame, and Hakyeon finds he understands what Jaehwan is trying to say.

*******

Afterwards they shower together. Jaehwan spends the whole time smiling shyly even as he’s grabbing Hakyeon by the ass to draw him in for another kiss, the soap making their skin slippery. “You know,” he murmurs between kisses, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this about someone before.”

“Me neither,” Hakyeon replies, marvelling at how smoothly the lie comes to his lips, how easy it’s getting.

*******

Empty.

It’s all he feels when he slips inside the apartment he shares with Sanghyuk. All the joy from earlier is gone and, when he showers again to scrub any trace of Jaehwan from his skin, the guilt comes rushing in hard and fast. It’s unfair. It’s unfair that Jaehwan is nearly perfect, and it’s unfair how fast Hakyeon is falling for him, but most of all it’s unfair that he still loves Sanghyuk.

“Hey,” he murmurs, sliding into bed and reaching for Sanghyuk. “Sanghyuk.”

“Mmmm?”

Sanghyuk is at his best like this, when he’s just woken up; the softness of sleep still shapes his features, to be replaced by the hardness of the day the moment they leave the bed. But for the moment it’s just the two of them, and Hakyeon brushes Sanghyuk’s hair away from his eyes and cups his cheek, thumb rubbing over his bottom lip gently. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

“What is it?” Sanghyuk obligingly cracks an eye open and—he _smiles_ and Hakyeon’s breath stops in his chest. This is the Sanghyuk he fell in love with five years ago, the Sanghyuk he’s been seeing in his dreams ever since. “What?”

“Nothing. I just love you.”

A funny expression crosses Sanghyuk’s face and he clutches Hakyeon a little closer. “I love you too,” he breathes before kissing Hakyeon, and even though it’s almost certainly a lie Hakyeon drowns in it anyway.

*******

A lazy Sunday. These are precious because while he often has leftover work that he has to get to on Saturday, he’s free on Sundays, and back when things were good they’d spend the whole day doing nothing. Hakyeon would put on a jacket over his pyjamas and go down to the convenience store to get cookies and flavoured milk and the newspaper, and they’d lie in bed and eat and read in a friendly companionable silence. That only lasted as long as Sanghyuk’s patience, because then he’d straddle Hakyeon and raise an eyebrow and smirk, and they’d fuck lazily and gently, more for the sake of it than for the pleasure of the act itself.

He can’t really remember the last time they had a day like that. Months? A year? Now usually when he gets up Sanghyuk’s watching TV in the living room, already shut off from Hakyeon. But this Sunday Hakyeon wakes up with Sanghyuk biting his ear and he gasps, half-rearing off the bed.

“What—” he starts, and is cut off by Sanghyuk kissing him, desperate and passionate. He certainly isn’t going to question it, not when affection like this is so hard to come by these days, and instead kisses Sanghyuk back, meeting him in the middle with equal desperation.

Hakyeon knows every line of his body and knows the best ways to make him come undone; it’s as easy as breathing after this long. A gentle caress of the throat. One hand inching up his thigh to brush over his cock, teasing, making him shudder. A whispered command— _touch yourself_ —and Sanghyuk is as pliable as clay. It’s admirable, almost. The spark that drew them together is still there.

“I want you to fuck me, hyung,” Sanghyuk gasps as Hakyeon helps rid him of his t-shirt.

“Only if you’re good.” The words come to him naturally, because what they are is easy, has always been easy. “Roll over.”

Hakyeon doesn’t want to say it’s desperate, this sex; no, even as Sanghyuk moans and sobs and writhes and reaches for him, bending over the bed and crying out when Hakyeon fucks into him, it’s resigned. They’re both playing a role, and they’re both damned good actors. That is all they have become—or perhaps that’s what they’ve been all along. Hakyeon can’t tell anymore.

“Harder,” Sanghyuk sobs, fingers twisting in the sheets so hard his knuckles go white with the strain. “Fuck me—make me hurt—”

This, Hakyeon understands. The physical pain is easier to bear than the emotional so he does as he’s told and yanks Sanghyuk’s head back by his hair, digs his nails in and drags them down his back. The hiss he gets in return is reward enough, but it’s even better when he pulls out to flip Sanghyuk over onto his back and fucks into him roughly again. Pleasure and pain, all linked in together, and he gasps when Sanghyuk wraps his legs around his waist and pulls him in tight so there’s no more space between them.

“I love you,” Sanghyuk chokes out, but the hatred in his eyes reveals the truth as he pulls Hakyeon in for a searing kiss. “I love you so much and it fucking—it fucking terrifies me—”

The line between them blurs until they are one entity, hate and love and angst and forgiveness and disinterest and passion all mixed in one, mirrors of each other and yet the same—and when Hakyeon comes, keening Sanghyuk’s name, he knows, somehow, that this is the beginning of the end.

*******

Jaehwan’s invited him over for wine and netflix, and it’s not until they’re halfway through the second movie—and second bottle—that Hakyeon realises he’s really having an affair.

_Oh,_ he thinks distantly. _Oh_. He never thought he’d be one of those people to cheat. There’s certainly enough of them at his company, and he’s certainly heard enough stories from dinners with coworkers. But he’d had faith that his relationship with Sanghyuk would stay strong, and back in those days he’d really believed it. Somewhere along the way they went wrong and he’s still trying to figure out how.

“You okay?” Jaehwan asks, making Hakyeon startle. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to spook you. You just looked like you were upset.”

The words are right there, on the tip of his tongue; as he looks at Jaehwan they nearly fall out: _I have a boyfriend. I’ve been lying to you. Lying by omission, but still lying._ He clamps his lips shut just in time and instead swallows thickly, heart racing. So many lies. So much idiocy. All because of him. When did he become this horrible person? Why can’t he bring himself to—to _care?_ He wants both of them, he realises, and because that is an impossibility he must lie.

“I’m fine,” he replies, and squeezes Jaehwan’s hand. “Just lost in my head.”

To his shock, Jaehwan doesn’t buy the lie, even as he leans in and kisses Hakyeon gently. “Okay,” he says, but there’s distrust in those eyes, and Hakyeon’s blood runs cold.

He can’t have them both. He can’t live without either of them.

*******

The guilt is what drives him to buy flowers from a little stall set up near the station, or so he tells himself. Maybe it’s the deluded belief that he and Sanghyuk’s problems can be fixed with a bunch of pale blue baby’s breath. Maybe he’s just an asshole. But Sanghyuk looks at the flowers and quirks an eyebrow before turning away, and a small part of Hakyeon’s heart withers and dies.

“I got a job,” Sanghyuk tells him as he’s arranging the flowers in a vase. It’s never been used before, Hakyeon realises faintly. “Things aren’t going so great music-wise.”

It’s a testament to how far they’ve fallen that this sounds like an update he would give an estranged family member rather than his boyfriend, but Hakyeon makes all the appropriate noises anyway and comes up behind him, wrapping both arms around his waist and squeezing. “I’m sorry, my love.” A kiss to the shoulder for good measure. Go through the motions—God knows Sanghyuk is. “I’m sure you’ll get your break soon. Are you still busking?”

“Don’t placate me,” Sanghyuk says with surprising grace and aplomb, moving away from the circle of Hakyeon’s arms, leaving him once more alone in the kitchen.

“I wasn’t, I’m just—”

He cuts himself off. There’s no point.

*******

Lying awake. Staring at the ceiling. There’s only a few inches between them but it feels like a mile, and Hakyeon’s too scared to make the leap.

“I think I’m losing you,” he whispers to the dead air.

Sanghyuk stirs, rolls over—he’s awake, and Hakyeon gasps in shock. “Then get me back,” he says evenly, and Hakyeon is lost for words.

_How?_ he wants to ask.

He’s a coward, and doesn’t.

*******

“I love you,” he says, and gives Jaehwan’s thigh a squeeze to make sure he’s heard it.

He has, because he stops—fucking himself on Hakyeon’s cock, flushed and damp and everything Hakyeon’s ever asked for—and exhales slowly, shakily. “It’s only been four months,” he replies, but there’s a shy smile curling on his features, one that Hakyeon knows means he’s pleased. “You can’t possibly.”

“I can so.”

“I’m not going to argue with you.”

“But you are.”

“Then,” Jaehwan purrs, “let’s not. I love you too.”

With the joy comes the woe, and Hakyeon knows he deserves it.

*******

He knows in his heart of hearts that it cannot last, and last it doesn’t.

He’s been careful. So careful. He always deletes Jaehwan’s texts, just in case, and he’s careful to put their pictures together in a secret folder accessible only by a passcode. Half of these tricks he’s picked up from his coworkers, and he has a grim sort of feeling that Sanghyuk was right all along; he should never have taken that job, prestigious salary be damned. But he did, and now here he is, knee deep in a mess that he knows he deserves every agonising, torturous moment of.

With Sanghyuk’s new job—at a coffee shop, which he hates—he’s out of the house more, giving Hakyeon an excuse to let Jaehwan finally see the inside of his apartment. Sanghyuk’s stuff is easily tidied away, and once Hakyeon is done he regards the room and shivers. He never realised how easy it would be to erase Sanghyuk’s presence entirely, how even after five years he still hasn’t settled into Hakyeon’s space properly.

Maybe that’s his fault.

Jaehwan comes over and they don’t drink, for once, instead snuggle on the sofa and watch the scariest movies they can both come up with— _The Blair Witch Project_ followed by _Hellraiser_ followed by _The Shining_ —before giving up, pressing mute, and taking turns to fuck each other into the leather of the sofa. And then the carpet. And then the stairs, because Hakyeon thinks it’ll be funny. And then the kitchen table. And then the bed, and they’re so wrapped up in each other they don’t hear the front door opening, don’t hear Sanghyuk’s approach until it’s far too late.

“What,” is all he says, ghost-white, and Hakyeon’s head turns in slow motion and his heart breaks, shatters into a million pieces, because the tightrope he’s been walking has finally snapped and it’s over.

It’s over.

“What,” Sanghyuk gasps, and puts one hand on his chest. “What—”

Jaehwan’s far too clever for his own good. It only takes him a few seconds of looking between Hakyeon and Sanghyuk with shocked eyes to figure it out and then he goes pale too, paler than Hakyeon has ever seen him. Hakyeon can’t take the fact that he’s about to cry while he’s still hard—this situation is so fucking absurd he could almost laugh if he didn’t want to die—and he moves back and the silence breaks.

“You’re a fucking bastard,” Jaehwan spits. “You’re a fucking asshole, Hakyeon—”

“You,” Sanghyuk says again, and sinks to his knees. Oh, god. “You—what—”

“You fucking prick!” This is Jaehwan, screaming in his face now as he pulls on his clothes, and Hakyeon doesn’t hang his head. He deserves every second of it. “You fucking—I fell in _love_ with you, you fucking asshole, and you just—I fucking hate you. I fucking hate you! I hate you!”

The screaming turns to noise and he can’t cope. The world goes blurry— _but my heart is racing so fast?_ he thinks, and wonders if he’s going into shock or something idiotic—and he can’t move, can’t reach out and stop Jaehwan as he goes, as much as he wants to. He manages to make his tongue move, but can’t get out much more than “I—” from _I love you_ before catching sight of a sobbing Sanghyuk, and he simply can’t say it. He can’t. He watches Jaehwan leave with half of his body crying out to go with him, and knows he’ll never see him again. The pain is unimaginable.

“You fucked it,” Sanghyuk chokes out, and stands up, wrapping his arms around himself. “It’s done. It’s done. No more.”

He leaves, and he takes the other half of Hakyeon’s heart with him.  


*******

_Alone, alone, alone_ , Hakyeon’s ghost-heart beats. _Alone alone alone_. He sits in the shattered wreck of his life, of his lies, and listens to its truth. _Alone alone alone_ , his ghost-heart says. _As you’ve always been_ , his brain reminds him.

There’s a glass broken on the floor—he thinks he remembers Jaehwan knocking it over as he left. For a long while he stares at the pieces, shining under the overhead light, his mind empty of any thoughts except the sound of his heartbeat like a scratched record, replaying his sins over and over. _Alone alone alone alone alone alone alone. You fucking asshole. You’ve fucked it._

_I hate you. It’s done. No more._

One leg out of the bed. Two legs. Stand up. Stagger down the hallway, find the broom, return. Crouch down and slowly, slowly, because the space where his heart was is hurting and he’s not sure he’ll survive if he moves quickly, sweep up the pieces. Make it clean and tidy. Start anew. He’s not even sure if he can. He should have seen the signs—he should have tried—he should have listened.

Too late now.

He throws his phone off the balcony, and with it, all his memories of them.

**Author's Note:**

> nothing much to say. i started this when I was sad, wrote half of it in sydney, and wrote the other half a few days later in seoul. moving countries is hard yo and i'm emo tonight so you get this... mess. and I know it's messy and really shit. it was just something quick and cathartic to help get the ennui out of my system.
> 
> sorry and thanks for reading.


End file.
